


coconut shampoo and fabric softener

by signifier



Series: The Chronicles of Los Santos [7]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: But the others are mentioned, M/M, mainly ryan nd ray, not really MCD but mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-06 05:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifier/pseuds/signifier
Summary: ryan suffers from nightmares - ray helpsorprompt - ray and ryan after a heist





	coconut shampoo and fabric softener

**Author's Note:**

  * For [narvaeztrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/narvaeztrash/gifts).



> secret santa gift for rayray in the rt writing community discord server <3

The safe house is a haze of red by the time Ryan gets there - door thrown wide open, windows broken and holes in the walls that are all too familiar.

Ryan drifts forwards, working on autopilot as he enters the building and walks through the wreckage. Most of the roof has caved in and there are scorch marks on the walls. He carries on, not able to stop as he steps over a particularly nasty pile of charred wood.

Theres a soot covered floral shirt buried underneath.

He wants to stop, to bend down and throw the wood out of the way and help his crew member, his friend. He wants to hug Jack to his chest and cry and scream and tear down the people who did this - but he doesn’t. He keeps walking, past the kitchen where there are bloodied kniveslaid about the floor and a body hidden by the counter. Ryan can see the golden boots of the owner, though, and they don’t seem to be making a move anytime soon.

The journey continues. Down the hall and over the smashed photo frames and past the flooded bathroom where pink water was flowing gently through the bottom of the door and Ryan didn’t even want to open it and see which of his family members lay lifeless, so he didn’t.

It had only been a few hours ago that Ryan had been making his way out, off down to the local shops with a list of crew member cravings in his head. He’d ruffled Gavins hair, earning a squark as the lad tried to keep his eyes on the video game but Michaels cheer from behind him had shown that he’d failed. Geoff had passed him in the hallway, all tired eyes and charming grin as he clapped Ryan on the shoulder. He had just been reaching for the door handle when slender fingers curled around his wrist and spun him around.

“Not saying goodbye?”

Ryan grinned. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes.”

Ray wrapped his arms around Ryan’s torso, turning his head to press the side of his face into the older mans chest as he pulled him close.

“A few minutes too long, you mean.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, a fond smile playing on his lips as he returned the hug and lightly rested his chin on top of Ray’s head. Ray smelt like coconut shampoo and the fabric softener that Jack liked to use. Ryan was never one for cliches, but he truly believed that Ray smelt like home.

“You’ll play video games with the others and won’t even know I’m gone.”

Ray shifted, not letting go but turning his head to look up and frown.

“I always notice when you’re gone.”

Then he was kissing him - slow and loving and such a breathtaking goodbye for a quick journey to the shops. Ryan returned it eagerly though, bringing a hand up to lightly tilt Ray’s chin a bit higher.

It was almost embarrassing, the way his heart fluttered. He was the Vagabond, for fucks sake.

They broke apart with a little noise that made Ray laugh, his cheeks tinged pink. Ryan let go of his boyfriend, playfully shoving him away.

“Alright, fuck off and let me go. Michael won’t survive the night if I don’t bring back alcohol soon.”

Ray laughed, folding his arms and leaning back against the hallway wall - the perfect picture of nonchalance and Ryan loved him. They stood for a second, simply smiling at each other before Ray moved forward and opened the front door, practically pushing Ryan out into the day.

“Leave already! I’m getting sick of you.”

Ryan finally turned to walk down the steps of the safe house, a grin seeming permanently stuck to his face.

“Dick.”

“Motherfucker.”

The door was softly clicked shut from somewhere behind him and Ryan found himself walking a little faster, the promise of home at the front of his mind.

The Ray he was staring at now was cold and lifeless, splatters of red on his face that brightened up his outfit. There was no trace of a smile on his vacant face.

The air knocked from Ryan’s chest like he’d been shot, doubling him over and knocking out his legs. He crumpled, pressing a hand to his chest and gasping for air as he stared at the figure in-front of him.

_“Not saying goodbye?”_

And he hadn’t, not really. They had kissed and made jokes and was the last thing he ever said to his boyfriend really ‘dick’? He felt sick, the pressure in his chest tightening, trying to tear him apart from the inside.

He tried to crawl closer, to grip the edge of the bed and pull himself up. He needed to close Ray’s eyes. Ryan edged forward, but every inch he gained the bed seemed to back up, taunting him with the sight of his dead lover. The closer he moved the further it got until it was sliding backwards, the room so long now that it was three times it’s original state. Ryan tried to speed up, tried to scream, but suddenly his knees were stuck to the ground and his throat had closed up, barely enough room for him to breathe and when he looked down the floor was covered in blood and the whole crew was scattered around the room - multiple versions of each person slaughtered in multiple ways. He squeezed his eyes shut, shocked that no tears were flowing, but all he saw behind the darkness of his eyelids was Ray’s face, staring but unseeing as his mouth fell open and a thick stream of red spilt over his lips.

Ryan woke with a start, legs kicking until he was sitting up with his back pressed to the cheap headboard of the motel bed he had been sleeping on. He was disoriented at first, confused and on high alert as his senses started to come back to him.

He wasn’t in a safe house - he could tell that much. The room smelt like moss and a faint hint of paint that was all too familiar. The sheets of the bed were scratchy and damp where they were balled up in his fists. He tried to tell himself that he was okay, he was safe, it was just a dream, but the pounding of his heart and the slow, cold trickle of sweat down his neck had him unconvinced.

There were suddenly hands on his shoulders, hot breath hitting his face and he could hear words but not the meaning. All he could think of was the safe house and his friends dead and dying without him there to protect them. He needed to get to them, he needed to crawl faster and reach the beds edge-

“Ryan!”

Ray’s voice cut through the panic and chaos of his mind, a soothing wave in a sea of distress, and Ryan found that he could breathe again.

“Hey, you’re okay. The heist’s over, everything’s fine.”

The heist. He remembered now. The LSPD had been coming down on them hard and they’d all split off to try and confuse them. He’d ended up on a motorbike, Ray clinging tightly to his back as their chests racked with laughter. Warm blood had trickled down his arm, making his grip on the handlebars slick, but with Ray cheering in his ear and the wind whipping his face as adrenaline coursed through his bones - he couldn’t find himself caring. They’d taken a series of twists, turns, back-alleys and dirt roads until they’d come up to a crappy looking motel a few towns away. They’d fallen into the room laughing, holding onto each other and recalling their favourite parts of the heist.

“That poor security guard!”

“The news is gonna have a field day with this one!”

“Do you think Geoff still has that guy’s hat?”

“I can’t believe you took that woman’s sunglasses!”

“Hey, Gavin said he needed a new pair.”

They drank the small bottles of alcohol that they found in a barely cool mini fridge and jumped onto the bed together, rolling around and getting tangled in each others limbs. Ryan had fallen asleep pretty quickly after that.

Looking at Ray now, Ryan could see the sleep in his eyes and the way his hair was slightly tousled. His purple jacket was hanging open, slipping slightly off his slender frame. He leaned forward, pressed his burning face into the cool skin of Ray’s neck and just breathed. He could practically taste the coconut shampoo and fabric softener that Jack liked to use. For a while, Ray just simply held him, just sat and ran his fingers down the back of his neck and shushed his beating heart.

Ryan took a deep breath before he sat back and ran his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Ray smiled. “It happens to all of us.”

Images of the dream flashed in his mind - dead crew mates scattered on the floor. _It happens to all of us._

“But,” Ray continued, “thats why we have each other. We’re a crew - a family. We take care of our own.”

Ryan took his hand, ran his fingers over the creases and rough skin that came from handling a rifle. Snipers hands. He smiled.

“Odd little family.”

Ray laughed, shifting closer. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Oh shut up, you old man.”

“Make me.”

So he did. Ray leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to Ryan’s mouth. Any following argument that Ryan had died in his throat as he brought a hand up to rest on Ray’s cheek. He felt more solid and real than he ever had in the dream. They broke apart, resting their foreheads together and breathing each other in.

With the sunlight streaming in through the moth eaten curtains and Ray’s skin pressed against his, Ryan felt a true sense of home.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me as @sig-nifier on tumblr!  
> come say hi or drop me a prompt!


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